The Devil's Luck
by InzanityFirez
Summary: Lucifer has a new 'bunk-buddy', and while Sam was fun, Castiel has that whole 'no sleeping, eating, or dying easily' thing going for him.  All in all, it's not the worst trade-off, for Lucifer, anyway.  Set after 7x17.


**Bummed out about Cas? YES I AM But Lucifer wouldn't stop bugging me so here's this bit of story-centric-nonsense.**

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All said and done, Lucifer had to admit, the Winchesters were amazingly resourceful. They'd managed to dredge up his supposedly dead brother to pull off a last-second victory. Sam had been snatched from his clutches yet again, he'd tripped at the finish line. Lucifer was certain that it was the kind of feat only a Winchester could pull off.

But like he'd told Sam, it didn't matter.

Oh, sure, they could say that he didn't exist. They could pretend that he was just a nightmare conjured up by Sam's Hell-ridden mind. Heck, they could even conveniently forget that he was _the devil_ for Ole St. Peter's sake. But it didn't matter, and why?

Because even when he lost: he won.

Sam might not have been his bunk buddy anymore, but all of his 'good-natured' bunkmate pranks would take their toll. He'd still see the nightmares of Hell, every flesh-curling Sam-roast, every slice from every sharp, pointy thing Lucifer could think to conjure up, every painfully graphic mental scene of Sam's family that Lucifer had shown him, he'd still be affected. Even if Lucifer was gone, his mark would be on Sam always, a stigma, a part of their 'profound bond' as his sweet little brother might have said.

Speaking of which, there was another prize in his proverbial pocket. Sweet little Castiel, with his single move of self-sacrifice [a trait picked up from the Winchesters, no doubt] had managed to take the prize he'd worked so hard for in exchange for himself. And on the one hand, it was kind of a bitch because let's face it, _Sam was his_. But on the other, Castiel had a new mind, a fresh mind, one ridden with guilt and betrayed loyalities and images of those nearest and dearest to him: dead or betrayed by his blood-stained hands. In short, Castiel was a delicious mess and Lucifer had to admit, there was a certain poetic irony to all of this. The original Fallen angel who'd tried to become God, the new-not-so-Fallen-angel who'd nearly become God...he had more in common with him than his other brothers.

And, added bonus, since Castiel was an angel...he didn't need to sleep, or to eat. He could take pain and punishment again and again, and he would come out just fine. So sure, the physical torture aspect wasn't exactly on the table, but that was an old hat anyway. Lucifer had gotten pretty fond of the whole up-close-and-personal side of torture. So Castiel, trapped, ever-awake, without distractions, was wide-open for a little...brotherly affection.

_"Well, at least you'll always have me." Balthazar half-smiled as he stood by Castiel, before his eyes widened as an angel-blade was plunged through his back._

_"I know there's a lot of bad water under the bridge, but we were like family once. I lost Lisa and Ben, I just lost Sam, don't make me lose you too." Dean's words were uncharacteristically raw as he tried to reach his fallen friend. _

_"You are not my family, Dean. I have no family." _

_"I am your new God, a better one. So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord, or I shall destroy you." _

_"Sam...I heard your call...I need your help." _

Laughter rang out in the sterile ward-room as Lucifer waved away the sudden influx of memories for the moment. He grinned as he patted Castiel's cheek, and to his credit, Castiel did little more than stiffen. His gaze remained focused ahead as he tried to ignore Lucifer, but he couldn't hide his agonized emotions [tsk, tsk, what a poor example of an angel he made] from his big brother.

Lucifer got eye-level with Castiel and forced the other to meet his gaze as he gripped his cheek and his grin widened. WIth his free hand, he ran his fingers over Castiel's hair. "You need help alright, brother mine. But no one's going to come. You killed all your friends, remember? And Sam and Dean are little busy cleaning up your mess...so I guess, it's just you and me, buddy. I admit, you're not as pretty as Sam, but hey, we're brothers. We should stick together. It's just you and me, now, little bro." he said as he pressed a kiss to Castiel's forehead and he repressed a shudder as the memories started again.

So what if they thought he was just a figment, so what if they underestimated him, so what if they had no idea about all the untapped powers in the universe that Lucifer had had many lonely millenia to comtemplate. The fact was, he had the Winchesters one way or another. And he had an eternity to screw with them.

Even when he lost, he won.

Call it the devil's luck.

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**Well, there we are. I'm of the opinion that Lucifer can't wholly be a figment. Butttt who knows. Either way. Leave verbal hugs? XD Enjoy!~Witchy~**


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